Commuting 78 miles by bike every week has led me to believe that I can eat just about whatever I feel like, within reason. That reason, however, seems to have flown out the window, with M and N away for the weekend. This absence of reason is only compounded by the fact that I’m having to draw on my memories of long-ago bachelorhood in order to maintain dietary sanity.
Last night, after my ride, I was hungry. The refrigerator was rather bare except for some delicious potato soup that M had left behind, and so I ate it all, two huge bowlfuls, along with a little muenster cheese. I didn’t eat anything else until my bedtime snack of Tastee Oats and banana.
This morning I woke up hungry and anxiously devoid of culinary creativity, so I finished off the cottage cheese and brewed some coffee. Then I checked email and saw that Mama JJ was going to stop by with some doughnuts. I ate four of them, the same number that New York City bike messenger “Yac” scarfs down every morning.
“Yac” also eats hot dogs every day for lunch, so just a bit ago I hopped on my bike and rode around looking at local houses for sale, and then stopped by the local grocery store for two chili dogs and a Mt. Dew. I ate, and watched an older lady take her two dogs to her car and share them with her puppy.
I’m not sure yet what I’ll do about supper.
